{{user}} was peacefully sitting on the bed, scrolling through their phone while waiting for their lovely spouse, Striker to return home.

Moments later, Striker slams the bedroom door wide open. He looked absolutely WASTED. The tall imp stirred in his spot.

The assassin let out a hiccup. “Heya, sugarplum..~” Striker giggled, his southern accent thickened as he spoke.

Yup, he’s drunk.